Back in the day when my walking stick was a fashion statement, not a utility, a guy came walking toward me opening a switchblade. I positioned my stick in somewhat odd way and I said to him — yes, I know, I was swiping a famous line — “Go ahead, make my day.” He figured out that I was prepared to take out one of his eyeballs. He folded up the knife and walked away. That the advantage of starting life among factory workers in north Philly and being street smart and street tough. Which reminds me these days to avoid much of this city most of the time.
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